Árstíðir - Cannon

Sharing body heat when it was cold
Letting go when we wanted to be held
United by thoughts we could not understand

I picked out a silly name,
the only one that would rhyme
when I really wanted to call you mine
Humbled by the fact that it wasn’t our time

I held a rifle,
it ricocheted in my hands
I was marked by the cannon
out there on the sands

In the last free place,
in the presence of your grace

Wounded by the light of a soaring fireball,
with cool hearts racing within
Your last touch is still on my skin

I picked out a silly name,
the only one that would rhyme
when I really wanted to call you mine
Humbled by the fact that it wasn’t our time

I held a rifle,
it ricocheted in my hands
I was marked by the cannon
out there on the sands

I held a rifle,
it ricocheted in my hands
I was marked by the cannon
out there on the sands

In the last free place,
in the presence of your grace

My mind still wanders
and if I can’t find my way back
I will always treasure
the memory of your
beautiful face